


Quodlibets

by EldritchTribble



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Compilation, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 15:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11360697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EldritchTribble/pseuds/EldritchTribble
Summary: A collection of Quodo-centric prompts from my tumblr page. Will be updated periodically.





	1. the daily grind

Characters: Odo, Quark

Warnings: body horror? Sort of?? Very mild.

Prompt: "Odo comes into Quark's before it opens to bother Quark while he's still half asleep. Quark is much more likely to spill crime beans when it's early." [[link]](http://eldritchtribble.tumblr.com/160398433577/)

* * *

Odo rather liked posing as a coffee grinder. 

The suffusion of aroma from nineteen different raktajino blends did not hurt, certainly; nor did the thrum of electricity coursing into him from the nearby plug. The _most_ appealing aspect, however, was the opportunity it presented to infiltrate Quark’s bar during the small hours of the morning.

This he had done out of desperation, as he needed Quark’s cooperation to take down a wanted smuggler of pre-reform Vulcan artifacts. Odo had offered Quark clemency in exchange; nevertheless, the bartender had been all too hesitant in agreeing to his terms. Reasoning that Quark might be less inclined to respond to sensible arguments than to early-morning jump scares, the constable had decided to lurk in the bar’s kitchen for a time.

Blearily, Quark padded toward Odo and filled him with coffee beans. Odo tried very hard not to splutter; it would behoove Quark to catch his drift in this matter.

“Spill the beans,” he commanded, as a few roasted pips careened out of the grinder and landed in a bowl of gree-worms.

“Wuzzat?” muttered Quark, unfazed at the grinder’s capability of speech as well as the coffee beans nestling in his breakfast.

“Spill the beans, Quark.”

A long moment slouched by. Then Quark placed the grinder’s lid on and began noisily grinding coffee while Odo’s muffled oaths floated above the racket.

“Serves you right for making jokes this early in the morning,” he mumbled neutrally.

 


	2. whirling paisley dervish

Characters: Odo, Quark, Benjamin Sisko

Warnings: None

Prompt: "Odo lets slip something caring and/or complimentary about Quark to someone else, unaware that Quark is close enough to overhear." [[link]](http://eldritchtribble.tumblr.com/160393443832/)

 

* * *

 

After all his years as head of security for Terok Nor and Deep Space Nine, not many things about his job surprised Odo anymore. Not much, that is, other than the inability many otherwise intelligent people had of grasping the perfectly obvious.

“I _always_ investigate Quark,” blustered the constable, blinking bemusedly up at Captain Sisko. Such things went without saying, or so Odo had surmised.

The corners of Sisko’s mouth twitched minutely upward, rivaling both the control and the depth of Vulcan expression. Little did Odo suspect what the captain would utter next.

“Why?” Sisko inquired, calm as a great river - or so it seemed. An undercurrent of danger undulated perilously near the surface of the remark, and the last thing Odo wanted to do was to muddy the waters further.

_“Why?”_ he repeated, incredulous.

“Why do you always investigate Quark? You said yourself in his file: he’s nowhere near as clever as he thinks he is.”

Still the nameless insinuation. Odo let out an affronted huff. Out of the corner of Sisko’s eye crept a hunched figure wearing what could only be described as a re-purposed Fragonard. Sisko’s grin widened.

“I expect that he will… _happen_ on that file at some point - if he has not done so already - and that’s why I was less than complimentary of his various ‘talents’. He is, in fact, a conniving schemer of the first order, and if I may say so, you are quite fortunate to have me keeping watch over him.”

Satisfied that this explanation would propitiate the captain, at least for the time being, Odo leaned back in his seat with a smug grin.

Before Sisko could properly articulate exactly what he thought of Odo’s explanation and where Odo could stuff said explanation, a whirling paisley dervish burst through the double doors, shrieking in rapture.

“Odo, you sap! You love me after all!"

 


	3. flirtin' with disaster

Characters: Odo, Quark, Hanok

Warnings: sleazy flirting and emotional mismanagement

Prompt: "Odo sees a dabo customer flirt with Quark and gets jealous. How does the constable decorously express his displeasure without being too obvious about his jealousy?" [[link]](http://eldritchtribble.tumblr.com/160395850947)

* * *

He had heard the rumors, of course. Station scuttlebutt often cropped up in the criminal activity reports, even when he found himself too busy or too disinterested to search it out on an active basis.

The Karemma trade minister, trapped in the _Defiant’s_ mess hall with _Quark_ , of all people, narrowly avoiding certain death and an even more certain diplomatic incident…that same minister proceeding to celebrate by clearing Quark out at dabo, despite all conjecture (and bets) to the contrary…

Such rumors had _not_ prepared him for witnessing the fruits of a bond forged in a wild, if fleeting, flirtation with mortality.

After an eighth spin at the dabo wheel, Hanok gleefully announced that he was calling it a night. A deeply conflicted Quark approached from behind the counter. His manicured hand brushed Hanok’s as he prepared to fork over the considerable sum of latinum held within. The minister offered him a half-lidded, significant smile in return, closing his fingers around Quark’s and easing his hand back toward him.

“Why don’t you keep that for yourself, hm? Buy yourself something nice. Think of it as a… _gift…_ from an admirer.”

Odo could feel his form beginning to bubble and roil. The smolder with which Quark responded propelled Odo unceremoniously from vexed bystander to active participant.

“Weren’t you briefed on Ferengi gift-giving customs, Minister?” inquired Odo with a measured cadence, sidling elegantly into Hanok’s space.

“I -”

“Might I inform you that, in Ferengi society, offering a gift constitutes both an insult to one’s financial status and an obligation to pay it back in kind… _with interest_?”

“I can assure you, Constable, I had no -”

“Obviously not.” Curling adamant fingers over Quark’s shoulder, Odo steered the hapless bartender away and made a beeline for the exit.

“Profits, Odo…where’d you get that idea about gift-giving?” Quark managed to protest, before Odo clamped a hand over his mouth.

 


	4. a man condoned

Characters: Odo, Quark

Warnings: None

Prompt: "Canon divergence from 'A Man Alone' where Odo starts doing crime with Quark after being framed?" [[link]](http://eldritchtribble.tumblr.com/160413087882/)

* * *

“You know, Quark, for all the trouble you give me, I have never had a stauncher advocate than when you argued for my innocence,” Odo remarked with a small smile.

Flustered, Quark picked up a dishrag and began polishing the bar with unnecessary vigor. “Look, Odo, just because I’m, and I quote, ‘reprehensible’ and ‘an infuriating wildcard’ doesn’t mean I can’t be a decent person on occasion. Anyway…you don’t deserve that kind of insulting speculation. Nobody does.” Quark let out a mild cough, the better to paper over the rawness of the emotion he had just let slip.

Unbidden, a thought occurred to him. He paused long enough to meet Odo’s level gaze. “Wanna get back at everyone who suspected you? _Really_ get back at them?”

Odo had not expected this. Trying not to seem too curious, he hemmed and hawed as he eased himself onto a barstool. “Supposing I did, for the sake of argument…what would you propose?”

“You could start by proving to them that their suspicions about you aren’t groundless,” suggested Quark.

“And what would _that_ solve?” Odo asked, not bothering to hide his hauteur.

“It would make them think twice before accusing you of just _anything_. You’d show that you’re willing to stand up for yourself.” He threw the dirty dishrag away and leaned forward, gesturing all the more passionately with every phrase.

“The customer is always right, after all. They want a loose-cannon shapeshifter they can’t trust? Give it to them. See how they like it after a few months.”

Odo could not deny that Quark’s argument had a peculiar form of merit. Searchingly, he scrutinized Quark’s gaze, attempting to weed out any deception beyond the bartender’s usual quota. 

“I would need an accomplice,” conceded Odo, insinuating himself into Quark’s space and lowering his voice to a guttural mutter. “Someone of ill repute with wide experience in such matters.”

Quark broke into a broad, victorious smirk. “Noted,” he replied.


	5. cancel red alert

Characters: Odo, Quark, Brunt (mentioned)

Warnings: body horror, violent imagery

Prompt: "Odo heard a scream and thought Quark was getting harmed but it was just a negative balance for the day's bar earnings." [[link]](http://eldritchtribble.tumblr.com/160397388852/)

* * *

Insofar as changelings were capable of having nightmares, Odo had begun to have them about Quark. 

It had, of course, started with Brunt and the merciless pair of Nausicaan mercenaries he had sicced on the bartender. Ever since that fateful occurrence, Odo had prowled that section of the promenade in the guise of a Klingon war-targ in full battle regalia. At times, he found himself hoping for a confrontation: something that stood a chance of countering that horrible occurrence; something that would even the score.

He was not a violent man, habitually…and yet.

Visions of retaliation soothing him as they did while he sloshed in his bucket, he found it difficult to determine whether the screech emanated from outside his room or inside his fevered imaginings.

Quark would have been the one to utter the screech - of that, he could be very sure; nobody else on the station could remotely approach those harmonics. Odo determined that the din was vivid enough to merit an investigation. Not bothering to assume any shape in particular, he darted out of his bucket in a long, sinuous rope and oozed urgently underneath his door.

Before long, he stood glowering in front of the offending barkeep.

As if it explained everything, Quark held up his calculator. In his consternation, Odo could not help but notice that said device was shaped exactly like a miniature Bajoran coffin. The symbolism was not lost on him.

In equal parts relief and aggravation, Odo sighed.

 


	6. large wrapped package

Characters: Odo, Jadzia Dax, Quark (mentioned)

Warnings: rude humor of a sexual nature

Prompt: "I appreciate the thought, but I don't need a thousand condoms, thanks." [[link]](http://eldritchtribble.tumblr.com/162386949162/)

* * *

Odo reflected that it was past time that he learned to beware Daxes bearing gifts.

True, Jadzia had seemed sincere enough when she had stopped by earlier to thrust a large wrapped package into his hands. Brimming with mirth, to be sure, but sincere all the same.

“Quark wanted you to have this,” she had confided in a sing-song voice. Instead of answering her directly, Odo had elected to open the box. Inside were thousands of what looked like a malfunctioning replicator’s attempt at test tubes.

“What are these?” Odo had inquired – not unreasonably under the circumstances, he thought. He had held one up to the light and given it a gentle shake.

“Ask him. I have _no_ idea what they could _possibly_ be.”

In retrospect, that had been his first clue.


	7. cloak and dagger

Characters: Odo, Quark

Warnings: kidnapping attempt

Prompt: "Is this a kidnapping?" [[link]](http://eldritchtribble.tumblr.com/162426275757/)

* * *

Quark sometimes wondered if Nausicaan mercenaries had nothing better to do than to carry out extralegal vendettas against him and his establishment. The thought of how much it cost to enlist their services, compounded with the foreknowledge of who generally employed them, routinely put Quark off his tube grubs. Exchequer willing, he might one day make an enemy who did not wildly outpace him financially. At least then he might stand a chance of being treated with a modicum of respect following his demise.

He was rather given to paranoid gallows speculation at closing time. Triple-locking the door of the storage closet as usual, he made his way to the front door of the bar, commanding the computer to turn off the lights as he did so. No sooner had the words escaped his mouth than a lithe hand in a silky glove clapped itself over it. An unseen figure, who Quark assumed to be the owner of the hand, lifted him bodily from the ground and carted him off to profits knew where.

These hired thugs certainly did not stand on ceremony. Was this one in Brunt’s employ? Nah. Had to be Rionoj’s – she always had a certain sense of discretion that escaped the liquidator entirely.

“Is this a kidnapping?” he blurted into the hand. Last he checked, his padd was still on him: he could conceivably pay his own ransom, provided he could afford it. Embarrassing, certainly, but there was no use hastening the inevitable. Rule of Acquisition number two-hundred and ninety-something, if anyone asked.

Oh, who was he kidding? He’d die with dignity and latinum – not necessarily in that order.

Quark was so lost in miserable speculation that he barely registered the figure’s response. The voice was gritty, irritated, and startlingly familiar to him.

“No, _Quark,_ this is not a kidnapping. This is a very unpleasant duty. Your ego being the fragile thing it is, you refused to seek legal protection voluntarily, so here I am when I would _much_ rather be regenerating in my quarters.”

Quark immediately became aware of just how tightly Odo was holding him. At least three arms gripped him in an unyielding vise, not counting the hand clamped over his mouth. So what was with the glove? Not that Quark was complaining – far from it – but it seemed a bit…out of character for someone so practical who did not need to worry about leaving fingerprints in the first place.

“Why, Odo, you imply that I wouldn’t have come with you willingly. How rude. So…what’s with all the… _cloak and dagger_?”

Stunned, the constable snapped upright. Obviously Quark had touched a nerve. Indeed, thought Odo, how could Quark have possibly guessed the title of his new favorite novel? The very one in which a lovable rogue holds a vedek for ransom and they end up falling for each other?

…No. It had to be mere coincidence.

“Hmph. Never you mind,” Odo replied, though he did not let Quark go until long after they had reached the security office.


	8. in the slipstream

Characters: Odo, Quark, Morn

Warnings: nudity

Prompt: "Why can't I ever take a bubble bath in peace?" [[link]](http://eldritchtribble.tumblr.com/162384259682/)

* * *

Bajoran holidays meant two things for Quark: a welcome influx of patronage at the bar, followed by aching in parts of his body that he forgot existed otherwise. After a long day of catering superbly to the demands of hundreds, shouting himself hoarse at waiters, and carting the overindulgent off the premises, all Quark wanted in the entire quadrant was some time to himself. On Ferenginar it had once been fashionable for top business executives to kick back in specially heated mud springs - what Quark would not give for half an hour in a _real_ eelwasser pool, he mused dismally.

_Oh well_ , he sighed to himself as the door to his quarters slid shut behind him. _I’ll just turn the sonics up real high and pretend._ When it came to his own comfort, he was used to pretending.

Then he remembered that Morn just happened to have quite the setup in his room.

After a brief but heated discussion that involved rather more bar tab forgiveness than Quark would have preferred, he was alone in Morn’s quarters. A very large and steaming mud bath awaited him.

His pleading muscles left little room for the usual standing on ceremony: within minutes he had stripped off and eased himself into the viscous pool. It felt _wonderful -_ Quark no longer wondered why Morn always seemed to be in such a good mood. He soon achieved a contentment so complete it verged on the obscene. For half an hour, nobody could make unreasonable demands of him or try to convert him or harass him about some jevonite shipment or other. In fact, nobody except Morn could possibly know where he was or what he was doing.

Unbidden, something began forming eddies in the mud.

Quark sat up and blinked. Was Morn wealthy enough that he had a _jet system_ installed? He must remember to start charging him half again as much for drinks.

“ **Quaaark,** ” gurgled a voice from the opposite end of the pool.

With an ear-splitting shriek, Quark scrambled out and thrust a towel around his midsection. The half-formed face in the bath shot him a satisfied, if glutinous, smirk.

“What are you doing in here, Odo? Can’t a man take a bubble bath in peace?!”

“Not when the man in question was involved in a highly suspect subspace transaction not twenty minutes ago,” replied Odo.

“I let Morn off the hook _precisely_ so that I could take an honest-to-profits half-hour to myself _off_ and away from nosy constables such as yourself,” Quark countered, his towel dripping cold mud everywhere as he spoke.

“Oh? So generous of you. You must be turning a new leaf,” Odo remarked, as sardonically as anyone could hope to with bubbles coming out of their mouth.

“I’ll turn _you_ a new leaf,” muttered Quark.

The constable let out that particular low chortle that Quark would never, _ever,_ as long as he was alive and earning profit, admit to enjoying. On any level. Especially not the level on which he happened to  enjoy it. His eyelids fluttered, sending streaks of kohl pelting down his cheeks.

Perhaps Odo’s presence did not have to be the impediment he had originally feared.

“Fine. I’ll explain everything if you do that jet system thing again. And _no peeking,_ ” insisted Quark, dipping a toe back into the pool.

“At you or at your files?”

“At _me,_ you ignoramus. _Or_ my files, for that matter.”

“Hmph. Fine – but I don’t want it getting around that I’m negotiating with a known criminal element,” grinned Odo as he slid back under the surface. Much to Quark’s satisfaction, strong currents sprung to life from every direction. His towel soon lay soggy and forgotten on the floor as he submerged once more.

“I don’t want it getting around that I’m negotiating with you either,” replied Quark with a sleepy smile.

 


	9. a cat enclosed

Characters: Odo, Quark

Warnings: none

Prompt: "When did we get a cat?"[ [link]](http://eldritchtribble.tumblr.com/162404833682/)

* * *

Quark had never been one to suffer shared accommodation gracefully. It had been a survival mechanism back on Ferenginar, since Rom had had the habit of “borrowing” his action figures for the sole purpose of taking them apart. He would claim that he only wished to see how they worked, but Quark knew better. Citing a vindictive, and potentially violent, streak on his brother’s part, Quark had presented the mangled remains of Marauder Mo to their mother in a desperate pitch for his own room. She had dismissed his plea, of course, and he had gone back to making Rom’s life as uncomfortable as he could.

Somehow Quark thought things would be different once he moved in with a romantic partner. Perhaps they were for the general population, but living with Odo certainly presented its own share of challenges. Barely-civil compromises about where to put the umpteenth driftwood sculpture. Sleeping arrangements that invariably resulted in upended buckets and grumpy changelings. Searching for the salt shaker for half an hour, giving up, replicating another and finding the first one sitting innocently right where he had left it the previous day. Or maybe that was Odo pretending to be the salt shaker. There was only one way to find out, always.

Quark had gotten used to these idiosyncrasies over the years – indeed, had even learned to appreciate them in their own right. Now that he and Odo had been married for longer than most of Quark’s business associates on Ferenginar had been divorced, he felt secure in the knowledge that nothing Odo could dream up henceforth would catch him unawares.

That is, right up until the day he came home from a long day at the bar to the sound of mewing.

At first, he thought it was just Odo trying out a new shapeshifting exercise. Then he peered into the living room to find the changeling in question curled up on the couch with a small furry creature, undoubtedly the source of the pitiful squeaks.

It was currently occupied with licking Odo’s face. Odo, for his part, wore a beatific grin and rather a lot of shed fur.

Quark did not know whether his allergies or his jealousy was more to blame for the prickling at the back of his neck.

“Exactly when did we get a cat?” he inquired, suppressing an indignant sneeze.

 


End file.
